Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?
by CognitionCannibal
Summary: Just my version of how The Joker might have received his scars. Warning: It's violent and a bit gory. Rated M just to be safe.


**a u t h o r s n o t e:**

**So, I wrote this one-shot late at night when I couldn't sleep. It's just my take on how The Joker might have gotten his scars. This fanfiction really makes me question my sanity. xD It was partly inspired by "Death's Lat Kiss" by Kendra Luehr; that's a fantastic piece of work, and I highly recommend it. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Joker, but I do own Marty, Cal Millegan, Barney, and certain plot elements of this story.**

**Please enjoy!**

**----**

_"Wanna Know How I Got These Scars?"_

Blood was _everywhere_. Dark crimson plasma gushed from the side of his face, oozed from beneath his hand and splashed soundlessly to the filthy carpet as Jack fumbled around in the darkened room.

----

_"Looks like little Jackie boy finally got caught." _

_The fat man sing-songed from his place at Jack's right. He smacked him in the head with his beefy, sweaty hand. _

_"I been waitin' a long time to get you tied to a chair, you lil pantie waste." He hissed malevolently into Jack's ear, his sweltering breath seeping from beneath rotten teeth to strike Jack's neck. Jack huffed exasperatedly and rolled his eyes to stare at the man beside him._

_"I didn't know you were that kinda guy..." He spat the words out mockingly, sardonically, with the fire of amusement in his dark eyes._

_The man's smug expression instantly turned to one of pure, unadulterated rage, and he pulled back his colossal fist and punched Jack right across his already bruised face. Hard. Hard enough for Jack to feel dizzy a few seconds after the hit. He gave a soft, dark chuckle, as if the man has merely flicked him harmlessly on the tip of his nose. His tongue darted out to lap up the dark red blood that slipped from the corner of his mouth before he smirked detrimentally. _

_"Is that all you got?"_

_-----_

A light switch. He found the light switch. With a flick of his index finger, the fluorescent light filled the room, tainting everything with its artificial, colorless glow. Jack stumbled across the room, searching, scavenging. Where had he put it now?

-----

_"Ah, Barney, let's not be rude to our guest."_

_A high-pitched voice lampooned as the door to the light-deprived room opened with an audible creak._

_In walked Cal Millegan, a top mobster and Jack's favorite play toy. He was tons of fun to rip off; he always got so _**angry. **_Jack's stomach dropped to his knees. This most certainly wasn't good. Cal looked at Jack with an awkward mixture of hatred and blatant pleasure. He smiled wide, revealing straight, perfectly white teeth._

_"Jack! How nice to see you! I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it!"_

_Jack guffawed._

_"Weeeeell, how could I miss it? I mean, your men did beat me and drag me here unconditionally. If you're trying to arrange a date or something, you sure have a funny way of showing it."_

_Jack smiled maliciously, his mood suddenly acrimonious. _

_Cal merely smiled again, his thin lips stretching awkwardly over his teeth as he approached Jack. Without warning, he raised his decorative cane and struck him in the groin. Jack coughed a bit, blood from his previous hit spilling like delicate teardrops onto his pants. _

_"Maybe you need to shut up, Jack. Because your harming yourself here."_

_He took a few deep breaths before looking at Cal right in the eye._

_"Aw...and these were my good pants."_

_Cal's jaw tightened in fury, his left hand clutched his cane in restraint. He leaned in close to Jack, so close that Jack could smell the cologne pouring off of him in waves._

_"I'm warning you, Jack."_

_Jack smiled._

_"Maybe you ought to take a breather, Cal, because you're just downright testy!"_

_Cal didn't move from his spot in front of Jack's smirking face._

_"You can come in now." He called._

_Almost instantly, a thin mann in his fifties entered the room. He had scraggly, sweaty brown hair and eyes the color of milk chocolate. His sharp, angular features were accentuated by his receding hairline, giving him the appearance of a bloodthirsty shark. His countenance was betrayed only by his eyes, which were filled with anxiety and confusion as they darted around the room, looking anywhere but at Jack. He swallowed hard, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing along with the movement in his throat. Jack squinted; his face became muddled. Before he could say anything, the man spoke._

_"I'm sorry, son."_

_-----_

_Here_it was! Jack picked the thread and needle up off the floor, where they had been hidden beneath a stack of papers. He'd been looking for them at least fifteen minutes. Things always ended up going missing these days... sewing materials, keys, _people. _Jack giggled at the joke, though it would have been humorless, if not offensive, to most people. He was so clever. Now, off to the mirror.

-----

_"Now, Jack, I'm sure you're probably a bit confused right about now," Cal began, grabbing Jack's attention,"It's probably a bit too much for your teeny, little brain to comprehend.'_

_He scrunched up his face as if he were speaking to a cute, innocent toddler. Jack felt his teeth grit in anger, but kept his mouth shut. _

_"Your daddy here, " Cal pointed absent-mindedly to Jack's father ,"was given a choice tonight."_

_Cal smiled again, that wide, arrogant smile Jack loved to wipe off his face. His eyes rolled upwards to face the ceiling, as if he were contemplating a serious scenario._

_"He could either die unceremoniously in a dark alley with no funeral and no recognition of his passing whatsoever _**or**_," Cal's eyes rolled back downward to meet Jack's own , "he could give me what I dearly desire. The pleasure of watching you die."_

_Cal spat on him suddenly, leaving yet another stain on Jack's pants._

_"I don't think I need to elaborate when it comes to what decision he made...Not that I blame him, of course. You are a rather...worthless piece of flesh."_

_"Jack, I'm sorry!"_

_His father screamed from the doorway; his voice was shrill and panicky. Cal turned slowly to give him a cold glare._

_Jack was seeing red. His bit into his cheek so hard, he tasted blood. Out of everyone he knew, the only person he thought he could trust was...was going to just murder him in cold blood. Jack hoped he died. He hoped he died a miserable old man, driven to madness with pain and guilt. He hoped he died in the most agonizing way imaginable. No...he hoped he died in an agony transcending far beyond human comprehension._

_"Shut up."_

_That was all Jack could manage to say, but those two words were filled with more hatred than even Cal's own words._

_"Oh!" Cal covered his mouth in mock horror, and Jack's eyes slid to his face, "Is that any way to talk to your father, little Jackie? I think you need a lesson in respect and proper manners."_

_Jack narrowed his eyes, his gaze pernicious._

_"I think you need a better plastic surgeon, Cal. Your new nose still looks out of line."_

_He growled, venom dripping from every syllable as if they had literally been drenched in the substance. _

_Cal's eyes filled with uncontrollable rage, and he screamed in Jack's face._

_"Marty! Come here, please, sir!"_

_Marty walked cautiously to Cal's side, each footstep slowed by unendurable guilt. When at last he stopped, Cal straightened and turned to Barney. He stuck out his deeply tanned hand._

_"Barney, hand me that old knife I asked to bring in from the kitchen."_

_Barney instinctively winced at the mention of the heinous blade, but he pulled it from his pocket, anyways, and handed it to his boss with trembling fingers._

_-----_

Jack turned his head this way and that in front of the mirror, his glances quick and unsatisfactory due to the towel he had to keep pressed against his cheek. He had to admit, he was still a handsome devil, maybe even more so now with his brand-new..._beauty mark. _He picked up the needle and thread and got to work.

-----

_"Since you're smart mouth is what's causing you all your problems, Jack, I'm going to do you a favor. Actually, you're father here is the one doing you the favor. He's going to take this knife, " Cal raised up the blade, serrated and rusty from age and lack of proper care ,"and he's going to _**jab **_it right through your ugly face! Right through your cheek!" He jabbed the knife at the air, accentuating his point.. He was exhilarated; his breath was coming in wild gasps and sweat gathered in little beads on his forehead. The look in his eyes was halfway between demonic and animalistic. Cal smiled yet again, sadistic pleasure spreading like an infection over the features of his face. _

_"Marty," Cal turned and slapped the knife impatiently into the middle-aged man's hand, "Do your worst!"_

_Jack tried to wriggle his hands free. The binds weren't that tight, but the slight wiggling of his wrists didn't loosen them. Cal shoved Marty roughly towards his son, who looked at him with such a look of betrayal that it broke the old man's heart. He raised his arm, and hesitated a long moment. The knife was poised, as if forgotten, in midair for what seemed like an eternity. Barney yanked Jack's hair viciously to keep it facing upwards. Marty's eyes filled with tears._

_"I'm sorry, son." He repeated._

_And the knife came down._

_-----_

Jack admired the smooth movements of his hand pulling the needle gracefully through the mutilated flesh of his cheek. It was almost like a dance, the way it moved meticulously, pulling torn flesh together, they way his wrist rotated in tiny circles slowly, the way blood streamed like tiny rivers from his mouth, down his neck, to disappear under the collar of his shirt. It was almost beautiful...it was almost _erotic. _He was almost finished now.

-----

_Jack forced himself not to scream in agony as Marty pulled the knife from his cheek relentlessly. He writhed in pain, blood poured from the wound. His body convulsed, his muscles contracted and expanded, causing a psychotic thrashing motion. The force was just enough to loosen the bonds around Jack's hands and feet. He turned violently, toppling the chair and sending Barney, who was gripping his head still, backwards. His arms flailed frantically as he fell, and when he landed, his head hit the ground with a sickening _**crunch. **_Jack easily slipped out of the ropes on his wrists, looking like a rabid dog as he thrashed about, sliding in his own blood. Cal gave a yelp of surprise, and turned as immobile as stone, as if Barney's unconsciousness had taken away his ability to move freely. Jack's hand suddenly darted out, looking like a claw, and grabbed Marty's frail ankle. His grip was as strong as steel. With a strong, merciless yank, Jack pulled him to the cement floor and proceeded to climb on top of him, wrestling the man for the knife he clutched desperately. Marty tried to pry Jack off of him, but the younger man was just too strong, and he finally succeeded in wrenching the knife from his father's hand. With no second thought, no mercy, and no compassion, Jack raised the knife up in the air and began to stab his father repeatedly. Marty's blood mixed with his own, and together, they created a haphazard pattern on the dirty, cement wall, growing in abundance with every stab Jack made._

_-----_

It looked nice. The skin was all red and puckered, but it would heal up in a few months. Jack scrutinized his face; a sigh of exasperation escaped his lungs. There was something missing, though. Something that was needed to complete the look...Ah! Jack snapped his fingers. Of _course_! Why hadn't he realized it before? It looked plain silly to have only half a smile! He needed to complete it! How could he have been so stupid? He reached across the little table in front of the mirror, his fingers grazing the switchblade he always kept there, and pulled the pretty, little piece of metal to his face.

-----

_Cal still stood motionless, eyes widened in terror, as if he thought none of it could be real. His white suit was now covered in blood. Marty lie, dead and unmoving, on the floor, his corpse spewing blood like a fountain. Jack was rising up off the floor, his movements clumsy. That was when the survival instinct kicked in. He turned and raced through the room, trying desperately to reach the door before Jack had time to get him, too. Relief washed over him as his hand clamped onto the cold, metal of the doorknob. He turned it violently. Just then, a blood-stained arm sped past his head and slammed against the door, holding it shut. _

_"Where ya going, Caaaaaal?"_

_Jack cooed, spitting blood and saliva all over the back of Cal's neck. His words came out horribly slurred, almost inaudible. Goosebumps exploded all over Cal's skin, and his pulse went hammering through his veins._

_"It's _**my **_turn to teach you a lesson."_

_Cal screamed._

_-----_

Jack set down the needle and thread for a second time, finally finished, and admired his handiwork. He was such a lovely creature with such a handsome mug. He almost blew himself a kiss in the mirror. Now...if only he could find a name as lovely as his face. "Jack" certainly wouldn't do the job! No, no, no, no, that was far too _common _for such a handsome man as himself. It just wasn't as pretty, not as dignified. He placed his head between his hands as he scavenged his brain for the perfect name; his eyes roamed the table. Pens, paper, his switchblade, scissors, the needle and thread, and cards left over from his last game of solitaire. He reached over absent-mindedly to pluck one from the wooden surface of the table, his lips pursed in acute concentration. He turned the card over. _Yes!_ That was _it! _ It was _perfect, sheer brilliance!_ It was such an appropriate name! It fit him perfectly, like the glass slipper on Cinderella's tiny foot.

**Joker.**

-----

**Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please let me know what you think! **


End file.
